On us. It was only a matter of time before he got in my face about how much I’d known about Alexei before him.
I set Alexei’s plate in front of him.
He ignored it.
Cam sighed. “Did you two fall out of the same womb?”
Alexei glanced at me.
I shrugged. “Sit down. He’s obsessed with the dinner table.”
“It is not dinner time.” Alexei sat anyway, though.
So did I. Regardless of whatever Mother Hubbard shit Cam was about to pull, it was the quickest way to get him off his feet.
Cam eased himself into his chair at the head of the table while me and Alexei flanked him. It felt kinda royal, but it worked.
Alexei pushed Cam’s plate at him. “I have good drugs if you eat that.”
“I don’t need drugs. I’m fine.”
“You are scared,” Alexei said. “The needle in your throat has made you crawl out of your skin.”
Cam glared at him. Nearly. It should’ve been funny that he changed his mind at the last minute, but I couldn’t laugh at Cam being in pain. Also, I was fascinated by the spy hole Alexei seemed to have into his brain. I knew Cam well, but Alexei was picking shit up faster than me, and I wanted to know how.
They hadn’t been fucking that long.
It’s not just fucking, though, is it? They love each other.
A two-way street. Lucky them.
Cam loves you.
Fuck, I knew that. I just didn’t know if it was the same. He’d never looked at me the way he was looking at Alexei. Never holed up in this house with me and fucked me all night long.
You even want that, bro?
Cam leaned across the table and beckoned Alexei close.
Alexei didn’t move.
Then he did and their kiss was inevitable.
Beautiful. I couldn’t look away, and the pinch in my heart I’d felt that night in Bristol when I’d first seen them together... it was a distant memory. Now all I felt was a rush of heat I struggled to contain without lunging across the table and trying to figure out who I wanted first.
“Saint.”
I blinked. Cam was as up in my face as even he would dare to be. I frowned.What?
He beckoned me close too. I leaned forward, the heat in my blood squeezing my heart so tight I couldn’t breathe. Was I scared of him kissing me?
If I was, it was only because I wasn’t sure how I’d survive the resulting inferno.
I wasn’t used to this shit feeling so fucking good. I hadn’t fucked many men. I’d fantasised about it more than I’d done it, and every time it had happened, I’d thought of Cam. Pictured him doing the things to me that I was doing to someone else.
Imagined an impossible world where our positions were reversed.
As if he’d let you fuck him.
